


Maternal Matters

by rebelwriter6561



Series: Getting Better [5]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magneto is an asshole, Mommy Issues, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8525227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelwriter6561/pseuds/rebelwriter6561
Summary: Kurt learns some shocking news and now it's Warren's turn to comfort him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I know traditional 5 times + 1 fics the plus one fic comes at the end, but it just would not work for this series. So now it's Kurt's turn to be emotionally compromised.
> 
> Also at this point their friendship is similar to that of my best friend and mine's: we've lost all respect for personal space and everyone assumes we're a couple.

Kurt felt as though he was walking on air as he left his math class. The teacher had actually praised his improvement with his math skills, applauding him for coming so far in just a few short months. Kurt beamed while mentally thanking Warren. It was really all due to his friend's help.

Warren himself was another reason for his happiness. After the emotional night they spent removing his metal feathers, and the following morning where they were sternly chided by the Professor, Warren's mood skyrocketed. He began regularly attending classes, with the intent to get his basic school degree. Kurt encouraged him to hang out around his friends, and while Warren was entirely dismissive of Scott, he got on swimmingly with Ororo and very well with the rest. His ever-present scowl even disappeared at times, and his sharp wit was always making Kurt laugh.

Best of all, his feathers ‒ the real ones ‒ were growing back. The wait for them to initially reform was agonizing for both of them. But eventually, tiny puffs of white blossomed all over his wings, even over the most scarred areas, and where they'd removed the metal ones. Kurt had rejoiced right along with Warren, nearly crying at the ecstatic look on his face.

From there, the feathers quickly strengthened and grew longer. Though they hadn't reached their former glory, the wings looked much better with a covering of feathers. Tiny flakes like snow wafted in the air whenever he fluffed them experimentally, much to the disgust of the other students. Warren eagerly tracked the length of the flight feathers, constantly guessing how much longer it would take before he could fly again.

Kurt's happiness was bittersweet, tinged with the sadness of Warren's eventual departure. He had no illusions that his friendship would be enough to convince Warren to remain at a place that he hated. He wasn't that special ‒ no matter how close they were, he understood his friend's need for freedom.

He entertained the idea of leaving with him, but that left a bad taste in his mouth. He was needed with the X-Men, training to protect mutants from suffering like he and Warren had.

How would Warren react to that suggestion? Would that be too much to ask? Kurt had already accepted that his adoration of Warren ‒ a crush, Jean knowingly called it ‒ would never be returned by the other. Beautiful Angel, even with his scars and imperfections, would never want someone who looked like him.

Kurt was yanked from his thoughts when a voice calling his mutant name caught his attention. Magneto was standing at the hallway’s juncture, eyes on him. The other students were giving him a wide berth, no doubt wondering, as Kurt always did, why he was around so often when he and the Professor were technically enemies. He approached cautiously. 

“Can I help you?” Kurt asked nervously, curious despite himself. He had very little to do with the other German, outside of his interest on Warren's condition.

“Have Charles or Raven spoken to you yet?” Magneto seemed uneasy, so unlike his usual stoic self. 

“No? No one's spoken to me about anything.” Kurt had no idea what the older mutant was talking about. He was glad they were in the hallways, in the open, just in case he tried something. The Professor may trust him, but Kurt remembered what he did to Warren.

If possible, Magneto looked disappointed, almost angry. “Then perhaps we should talk. They should really be the ones to tell you about this, but-”

“Please tell me you're not trying to recruit Kurt into your Brotherhood.” Warren appeared with a scowl at his shoulder, like Kurt's shining knight in a leather jacket. He wrapped one arm around Kurt, wing half cocked as if to shield him as well. Kurt relaxed in his grip, so very glad to see his friend.

Magneto gave him a stern look, seemingly unaffected by Warren's angry glare. “This is actually a personal matter, and really none of your business.” Warren tensed next to him.

“What do you want to talk to me about?” Kurt asked, feeling bolder with Warren next to him.

Magneto looked at the pair of them and seemed to come to a conclusion, if the way he sighed and shook his head was any indication. “I don't want to make assumptions, but what do you know of your parentage?”

“My what?”

“Who your parents are,” Warren supplied. “What do _you_ know about it?” he demanded, defensive on Kurt's behalf.

Kurt was glad Warren asked for him because he was too stunned to answer. His parents. He'd long ago given up the idea of them ever appearing in his life to welcome him home. It was a childish dream. What could Magneto know about them?

“I believe I have some knowledge of it.” Magneto turned and gestured them towards an empty classroom. “I'm willing to tell you, but I don't believe we should be having this conversation in a hallway.”

Warren caught Kurt's eye, raising an eyebrow to his just-barely curly hair. Kurt nodded. Of course he wanted Warren to come with. They were practically inseparable as it was, and he had a feeling he would want Warren by his side for this.

They entered the classroom, Magneto seating himself on the edge of the teacher's desk. He pulled a pale folder from under his arm that Kurt hadn't noticed before. Kurt and Warren sat on the student desks, shoulder to shoulder, waiting for him to speak.

Magneto cleared his throat, looking at whatever was in the folder. “You both know, I assume, that during the Cuban Missile Crisis, myself, Charles, Raven, and Hank were fighting to stop another group of mutants from starting a nuclear war.” Kurt nodded. Warren looked like he wished he'd paid more attention in class.

“The leader of those mutants,” Magneto’s face twisted bitterly, “was the man who unlocked my powers as a child, by killing my mother.” He stopped, lost in thought, before he continued. “His associates joined Raven and myself after his death, to become the first members of the Brotherhood of Mutants.”

Warren shifted impatiently at Kurt's side. Kurt knew his friend was dying to tell Magneto to get to the point.

“One of them was a mutant named Azazel.” Magneto pinched a picture from the file, holding it out to Kurt. “He was a teleporter, and not unlike yourself.”

Kurt took the picture numbly, but a shock ran through him when he saw the man depicted there. In the still photograph, his body was twisted in action, in the middle of a fight, and Kurt could see the tell-tale traces of smoke that came with his own teleportation.

There was also a very obvious tail arching behind him. His face was twisted in fury and concentration, and Kurt felt a shiver go down his spine. It was looking at a fun-house mirror of himself ‒ so familiar, but wrong. 

He knew what Magneto had to be implying, but seeing the other mutant in the picture suddenly made it very real in his mind.

Warren leaned over his shoulder, looking for himself. “What's he- I mean…” he tapped his finger on the picture. “Is he, you know,” he jerked his head at Kurt, “blue?”

“No, he was red, actually.” Magneto informed them, because the black and white picture couldn't. “Other than that, appearance-wise, he was nearly identical to Kurt.”

“What is he like?” Kurt couldn't stop staring at the expression frozen on Azazel's face, the obvious trajectory of his fist into whoever he was fighting’s face.

Magneto opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated. “He was… he rather embraced how fearful his appearance was. He never allowed much to stand in his way. A very cruel and efficient fighter, but not a very kind man.”

“Nothing like you,” Warren murmured, which was exactly what Kurt needed to hear. His mind was turning, barely able to process what he'd been told. It was one thing to know he had a father out there, somewhere, but another to see him and learn what he was like.

“Do you know where he is now?” Did Kurt want to know that answer? What would he do if he knew this mutant was out there, perhaps not knowing himself that there was someone out there like him.

Magneto sighed. “After I was incarcerated following the events in Dallas, I never heard from him again. It seems that Trask Industries, the ones responsible for the Sentinel robots, captured him in the sixties. The CIA has finally released the files ‒ I've only just found out myself.”

He handed the folder to Kurt. He only got a glimpse of the picture on top before Warren snatched it from his hand. “He doesn't need to see that!” he snapped at Magneto. His fingers curled around Kurt's, grounding him.

Kurt felt sick, stomach tight, the Y-incision on Azazel's chest burned into his eyes. He was dead. They had captured and killed him, maybe even before Kurt was born. Had they gotten him the same way they nabbed Kurt? Had he felt the shock of electricity through his body, the crippling realization that he _couldn't move_ , that he was helpless and couldn't escape for the first time ever?

Kurt still had nightmares about it. His nightmares always ended with him in a sparking cage, fighting for his life. Azazel's nightmares had ended in his death.

Warren's thumb stroking his hand brought him from his thoughts. “So you think this man is my father?” He could see with his own eyes the evidence in his hand, but there was always a chance they were wrong.

“It seems to be a very likely possibility,” Magneto said delicately. “Your appearance and abilities seem to indicate so, but we don't yet know enough about second generation mutants to be sure. A direct genetic inheritance of powers seems to be rare.”

“You would know,” Warren muttered, and Kurt was reminded of the other mutant legacy at the school. 

Magneto scowled at him and continued. “He never said anything to me about a child or any liaisons. But with the release of these files we now have Azazel's DNA readout. If you'd like to be tested to be certain-”

“Yes,” Kurt interrupted. He had to. He didn't want to know, but he had to find out. He wanted the mystery solved.

“Do you have any idea who Kurt's mother is?” Warren demanded. Kurt's head jerked towards him in shock. The grip on his hand was stronger now. 

“I have my… suspicions.” Kurt whipped his eyes back to Magneto. What was that supposed to mean? “But that truly is not my place to say. I only told you about Azazel because Charles and I didn't think you knew, and it seems obvious enough that you should.”

“Who do you-” Kurt was cut off when the classroom door suddenly slammed open and Mystique stormed in. Her furious gaze slid over Warren and Kurt before landing on Magneto. 

“Dammit, Erik, what did you do?”

Magneto drew himself up stiffly, returning her glare. “I've told Kurt what he has the right to know about his father. Anything else-”

“ _You_ had no right to tell him! It's none of your business!”

“I had to, because you certainly weren't going to do it. It's cruel to hide it from him, he would have found out eventually!”

“How _dare_ you! You have no _idea_ -”

The pain in Kurt's hand drew his attention away from the arguing pair. Warren was now squeezing his hand so hard he was nearly crushing it. His face was dark with anger. Kurt followed his gaze, and realized he was staring daggers at Mystique.

“Oh.”

Kurt's quiet noise grabbed Magneto and Mystique’s attention. She looked at him and he saw the truth in her eyes before she could hide it.

“Kurt, wait-”

He couldn't. The walls blurred and he teleported without realizing he did it. Warren's yelp, and Scott's startled shout when they appeared in his room, didn't shake him from his shock.

“What the-”

“Stop! Kurt!”

He couldn't breathe. They were just as suddenly on the roof, Warren still clutching his hand, but it wasn't enough, they were still there.

His knees hit cold concrete, stained with the blood of so many mutants. His insides quaked, they'd gone too far, Warren grabbed him from behind, telling him to stop. There were no more crowds but he could hear a roaring in his ears.

Again, to the crumbling church. Again, and they were in a back alley in Munich. Again, and again, and Warren was still clinging to him, like when he tried to escape the pyramid but he couldn't shake him. Again, and again, and then everything was quiet. He couldn't go any farther. 

He was shaking, and the sobs that were wracking his body threatened to choke him. Warren's chest was pressed to his back, arms around him, holding him up as they knelt in the short grass.

It was too much. His chest was aching, breaking apart. She'd known. She looked right at him and she'd known. All this time…

“ _Why didn't she tell me?_ ” he whimpered. He couldn't say anything else because he couldn't breathe; his sight was growing dark around the edges and he couldn't stop crying.

Warren's voice was calm in his ear. “Just breathe, Kurt. Just breathe. Like me. You just need to breathe.” He sucked in a deep exaggerated breath, released in it a gust that brushed Kurt's face. He repeated it, over and over, his chest moving against Kurt’s back with every inhale, as Kurt tried to make his gasps keep up and fall into rhythm. His hand was rubbing Kurt's trembling chest, and if everything else wasn't happening Kurt would feel warm and embarrassed by that. But it was comforting, soft.

It seemed to take forever, but Kurt's breathing finally calmed. His throat burned and his eyes were heavy, but he could breathe again. The tears stopped, and the cool autumn wind chilled his face. The rest of him was warm, because Warren had wrapped his barely-fledged wings around him, cocooning him just like he'd imagined. It would be so nice, if he weren’t feeling so terrible.

There was a heavy tread of feet and a curious snort to their left.

“Beat it,” Warren told the herd of cows that had ambled up the hill to join them. From their vantage, Kurt could see the setting sun illuminating the village nestled in the valley below them. He recognized the familiar pattern of the roofs. He knew exactly where they were.

A church bell began tolling, and Kurt's lips automatically formed a prayer. Warren didn't say anything as he whispered words asking for peace, for strength. He prayed for Azazel. He may not have known him, but he was dead, and Kurt could at least pray for his soul.

“Did she know?” Warren asked when he was done. “Your mother, the one who raised you. Did she ever say anything?”

“She said she didn't know.” Kurt's voice was tight as he looked around the field, one of his many homes in the past. “It was here that she found me. In those woods.” Kurt gestured to the dark forest at their back. The circus had performed here many times over the years, and Kurt heard the story repeated each time.

“She was looking for firewood and heard me crying. Miles from anyone, soaking wet but nowhere near the river.” That part had always puzzled him, but his mother swore it was true. “It took her so long to bring me back because I kept moving us back. I couldn't even walk but I knew how to teleport.”

He'd often thought, when he was younger, that he had strayed from his home on accident, unable to control his powers and find his way back. As he grew older he quickly abandoned the idea. He knew exactly why someone like him would be left alone in the forest.

Mystique… Kurt choked back a sob. It had been her. The mutant savior, their champion, the one who rescued him from the ring and now taught him to fight with the X-Men. It was her…

“You knew,” he pointed out weakly. Warren had figured it out before he had. Maybe he had seen some resemblance between them.

“I guessed as soon as Magneto said your father wasn't blue.” Warren sighed, rubbing his face against Kurt's hair. “God, I'm so sorry Kurt, I should have kept my damn mouth shut, but I was so mad.”

“You don't have to be mad. I'm not. I was just… really shocked.” That seemed like an understatement. Kurt lifted his hands to place them on Warren's where they were resting against his chest. “I'm just… I don't know, unhappy that she never told me after we met. And it sounds like she never planned to tell me. That's all I want to know, why she didn't tell me.”

“God, Kurt.” Warren's arms and wings tightened. “Why _aren't_ you mad? She abandoned you!”

“Anyone would want to get rid of me,” Kurt said bitterly. He didn't need to know exactly why ‒ hearing Mystique’s explanation would only hurt more. “I'm glad she did. My mother ‒ the one who took care of me and raised me ‒ she never would have had the chance if Mystique had kept me. I can't be angry about that.”

There was more ‒ a burning pit of pain deep in his chest ‒ but Kurt shoved it away. He didn't want to think of it too hard. It hurt too much.

“You're too good for this shit.” Warren grumbled into his hair. “The world needs to stop dealing you crap and save it for the assholes like me. I'm used to shitty parents. You don't deserve any of this.”

“You don't deserve it either,” Kurt assured him. Despite the heaviness of the situation, he was enjoying the closeness with Warren. His friend had stuck by him, even when he’d been transporting all over the place. He’d helped him calm down. Now he knew how Warren felt when he had done the same for him.

Warren's wings suddenly bristled. “The Professor's probably looking for you with Cerebro by now.”

“We should go back.” Kurt sighed. He didn't want to leave this moment. He considered, for a brief second, if Warren would want to go back. This was the perfect opportunity for him ‒ he was healed, his wings mostly fledged. He had no real reason to want to return.

Gently, Warren cupped his face, turning him so they were eye-to-eye. “You know you don’t _have_ to.”

Startled, Kurt stared at him, wondering if he had guessed his thoughts and was going to suggest they run away together.

“You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.” Warren continued. “If you aren’t ready, and you don’t want to face everyone yet, then don’t. This is a lot of shit, Kurt, and if you’re not done coming to terms with it then you shouldn’t be forced to right this second. I mean, you know I deal with things by running away, or lashing out if I can’t, and that's fine for me. You deal with it your own way, however you want. You’re allowed to be not okay with this. You don’t have to go back and pretend you’re fine if you’re not.”

Kurt’s heart swelled. Warren understood him better than he understood himself. Afraid he was going to cry again, Kurt tucked his head against Warren's chest, letting his friend cradle him close.

“I don't think I'll be fine for a while.” he agreed. “But I feel better having you here. Thank you.”

“I might be shit at taking care of myself,” Warren's tone was mocking, but not unkind, “but I can take care of you. I promise.”

For a brief moment, Kurt thought about kissing him. Just reaching up and finally following through his desires. It wasn't the first time he felt the urge, but it was the first time he wondered if Warren would actually kiss him back.

He didn't, though. This wasn't the right time ‒ if there would ever be a right time.

“We should go now anyway.” The sky was growing darker, Germany so many hours ahead of New York. “But I don't want to see anyone right now.” Warren was right ‒ he wasn't done figuring out how to feel. He didn't want anyone asking questions, or the Professor wanting to talk to him. He just needed time to figure it out on his own.

“Well, in my experience, hiding in my room and blasting Metallica is a pretty good way to say ‘Do Not Disturb’.” Warren pulled back to smile sweetly at him. “You're welcome to join me if you want.”

Kurt smiled too, shyly. He never took it personally when Warren locked himself in his room to blast his metal music, but he still wished to join him sometimes. Now here was the chance.

Wrapping his hand firmly around Warren's arm, Kurt brought them back to Warren's room. The fatigue from traveling left him slumped on Warren's bed, not unlike the first time they had gone there and back to retrieve his jacket. So much had happened since then. It was like Warren was a whole new person.

Warren left him there as he crossed the room to his desk, tossing the aforementioned jacket on the chair. Kurt heard him fumbling with the tape cases before a heavy riff of guitars filled the room. They were quickly silenced when Warren hit fast-forward. “I don't like that song anymore,” he mumbled as explanation.

When the music began again, another loud and up-tempo song, Kurt found himself oddly comforted. Warren's sureness and wisdom about the situation made him feel better. If Warren could handle the worst life could throw at him, then so could Kurt.

They laid together on the bed in silence except for the music. Warren was studying one of his books, and Kurt was mentally turning things over in his mind.

He knew things would be awkward between himself and Mystique now ‒ he wasn't even sure how he would handle seeing her face-to-face again. He was hurt that she didn't tell him, but he understood why. She probably didn't know what to say, or how to say it. She was a fearless leader and a powerful fighter, but not very good with emotions.

He did want to know more about his father, and how he came to be. Surely that wasn't too much to ask.

A sudden banging at the door startled the pair. “We know you're in there!” Ororo’s voice rang out. “If you're doing anything then knock it off and put your pants back on.”

Kurt felt his entire face flush. Warren saw his expression and laughed as he got off of the bed. “That shade of purple looks good on you Kurt. Really brings out your eyes.” He turned his stereo off, and the door immediately burst open, allowing Ororo and Jubilee to enter.

Warren scowled. “That was not an invitation to enter,” he snapped when the pair joined Kurt sitting on the bed, wrapping him in hugs.

“Get over it,” Ororo shot back. “We want to make sure Kurt is okay.” Kurt's gratitude was mixed with unease as he hugged them back. He appreciated his friends, but didn't really want them here now.

Warren's frown grew when Peter blurred into the room, followed more slowly by Jean and Scott. “You know, why did I ever think things could be kept private in a school full of psychics?” He shot a glare at Jean.

She rolled her eyes at him. “There's only two of us, not a whole school.”

“Yeah, and everyone knows by now anyway,” Scott said with a shrug. “A lot of people heard Mystique tearing Magneto a new one about it. They weren't very quiet.”

Kurt's stomach dropped. Everyone already knew?

“The things we miss when we day-trip to Germany,” Warren said regretfully. “I would have loved to hear that.” His eyes sought Kurt, silently giving him strength. His jokes were welcome ‒ at least they lightened the mood.

Jubilee rubbed his shoulder. “Hang in there Kurt,” she said comfortingly. “I know this really sucks. But you've got us here. You know we can help.”

“Thank you,” he muttered automatically. Warren's words suddenly registered. “Did you know?” he directed at Jean. “Beforehand, did you know?”

“I knew that Mystique was hiding something, and it had to do with you.” Jean spoke softly, gently sitting next to him on the bed. “I didn't know it was this, though. She was working very hard to keep it from getting picked up by me or the Professor.”

That made Kurt feel a bit better. If they had both known, and still let him be blindsided by it, that would be just cruel.

“How are you feeling, Kurt?” Jubilee asked softly. “We're your friends, you can talk to us.”

“I'm feeling better than I was.” Kurt shot Warren a grateful look. “You don't need to worry about me though.”

Peter spoke up. “Well, yeah, we kinda do.” He was flipping through Warren's cassettes as he spoke, to the other’s obvious annoyance. “We don't know what to expect when you freak out. I mean, with him‒” he jerked his head at Warren, “we're used to him freaking out, and it's usually fine cause you're always with him. When you freak out, it's like, you know it's something big, and we don't know how you're gonna react, cause you never freak out. Man, we didn't know what you were gonna do.”

Warren's expression was angry but perplexed. “I don't know if I should be offended by that or not.”

“It's Peter. Best to go with not.” Ororo answered. “Are you sure you are fine, Kurt?” she asked as she gently stroked Kurt's hair. “This is not an easy thing to learn.”

“I know that,” Kurt shifted uncomfortably, not used to the attention. “I'm still working through it. I will be‒” Kurt stopped mid-sentence when Mystique appeared at the door. The other students noticed as well, and froze awkwardly.

“All of you get out. I want to talk to Kurt alone.” The gang shuffled out, not making eye contact. Everyone except Warren, who crossed the room to stand between her and Kurt. She glared at him. “Move it,” she snapped.

“It's my room,” Warren shot back. His wings were stiffening up, like he expected a fight.

Mystique huffed. “For once, why don't you mind your own business and leave Kurt alone? He doesn't need you looming over him all the time.”

“Look who's trying to be all responsible now,” Warren said bitterly. “‘Mothering’ doesn't look good on you, I'd stick to ‘frigid bitch.’”

Mystique’s eyes flashed. Kurt's tail lashed out and wrapped around Warren's arm, trying to draw him back. He had no reason to be frightened for his friend, but he was.

“What do you want?” he asked, scooting forward so he could see her past Warren's wings. The look she directed at him was angry and impatient, but also very sad. She quickly looked away.

“I owe you an apology. I know you probably have questions,” she addressed the floor, unable to look him in the eye for long. “Or you might never want to speak to me again. But I want you to know I never meant to lose you. Or to make you wait this long before telling you. I just never figured out the right time or the right way to say it.”

“Lose me?” Kurt's head spun. Was his childish idea actually correct? Warren's arm flexed in his tail’s grasp, and Kurt rubbed the spade tip along his arm soothingly.

“Yes,” Mystique confirmed his thoughts. “I'd kept you hidden for months, but eventually the people of the village found out. I hid you down a well and ran.”

“A _well_?!” Warren burst out incredulously.

“I didn't have a lot of options at the time,” Mystique snapped back. “When I snuck back you were gone. I didn't know if you'd drowned or if you'd gotten yourself out.” She sighed. “I always kept my ears open though. I kept looking. It was nothing but luck that I heard about your fight in Berlin. If I'd been an hour late I never would have gotten there in time.” Warren bristled at the mention of the fight. 

Kurt couldn't believe what he'd heard. That if not for fate, and his own uncontrolled powers, he would have known her all along. “I wish you had said something earlier,” he admitted quietly.

“I should have,” she agreed. “But you had your friends‒” she shot a dark look at Warren,”-and clearly you turned out just fine. Telling you would make things complicated.”

“That's no reason not to tell him!” Warren burst out. “This is worse, you had a chance to step up and be a responsible adult but you just sat aside like you don't even care. You don't, do you?!”

“Shut up! You have _no_ idea what I've been through!” Mystique’s fury boiled over, and she lashed out at Warren. “I've been fighting for mutants for years. I got you out of that cage. You have no right to talk to me like that!”

Warren's face was twisted in fury. “Did you even try to look for him? How hard is it to find someone who's _blue_?” He paused, burning anger in his eyes. “Some hero you are, you were probably happy you didn't have to take care of him anymore!”

Kurt's breath caught. Mystique gasped at the accusation. She shot forward, and Kurt's instincts kicked in. He teleported himself into Warren's spot, unfortunately ramming his friend into the side of the bed when they changed places. “Don't!” he pleaded, hands up, ready to deflect the fist Mystique had raised.

She froze, eyes wide and locked on his. Behind him, Kurt could hear Warren breathing heavily. His tail tightened on his arm.

“Please leave,” he pleaded quietly. “Please. You've said enough, I don't want to hear any more. I don't want this to be worse than it already is.”

Mystique gazed at him searchingly, then flicked her gaze over his shoulder, to Warren. Kurt stayed still, ready to run again if she didn't.

“Thank God you didn't turn out like me or Azazel,” she spoke quietly, her voice heavy. “I don't know how, but you're so much better than either of us.” She turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. The silence she left felt like a deep breath before a plunge.

Kurt turned in time to see Warren cover his mouth, eyes wide with horror. “I'm sorry,” he moaned, muffled behind his fingers. His shoulders caved in, wings slumping behind him like fallen leaves. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I didn't… I didn't mean…”

Kurt reached out and pulled him into a hug. He didn't know if it was to comfort his friend, or his own need. Warren, thankfully, wrapped arms and wings around him, burying his face in his neck. It was like a safety blanket ‒ Kurt felt a thousand times better just being close to him. At least he still had Warren.

“What you said…” Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat, "I don't think you've ruined anything between me and her. We were never going to have a chance to be close.”

“I still shouldn't have said it.” Warren's hands rubbed his back soothingly. “I just can't _think_ when I get mad, I don't even know half the stupid shit that comes out of my mouth.”

“But you meant it, didn't you?” Kurt had easily grasped what Warren had thrown at Mystique. “You think she never wanted me.”

“I know what it's like, to have a parent that doesn't want you.” Kurt could feel Warren's lips moving against his skin, sending shivers that were at war with the warmth surrounding him. “It's hell. I don't know if she's lying or not, but the way she was acting reminded me of my father.” His arms tightened, as if to protect him. “He had a thousand excuses for why he treated me like shit, and they were all my fault.”

Kurt suddenly understood Warren's bitterness. The pain in his heart had to equal Warren's. “At least we have each other.” He spoke knowing Warren's upcoming departure, and decided he didn't care. He would stay with his friend, no matter what happened. 

And if they left, then he'd never have to see Mystique again.

“I'm not going anywhere, Kurt. You and me, we stick by each other through this shit. I'm not leaving you.”

Warren's promise meant the world to Kurt. He hoped one day he could show it.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, comic canon Mystique was the worst mom. Originally Kurt's father is the one who rescues him from the well, but I'm not sure where that fits in the movie canon so I left it ambiguous. Also, Kurt can teleport as a baby because that's adorable.
> 
> Next chapter will be nothing but sunshine and happiness, I promise.


End file.
